


One Shot, One Kill

by LadyEtcetera



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Platonic Relationships, Sniper!Hux, Some mentoring?, Super snail paced story, This was supposed to be a Sir General challenge back in like 2016 but let's not talk about that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24604606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyEtcetera/pseuds/LadyEtcetera
Summary: It all started with an order.Well, not an order, really.Everyone knows you can't order the General of the First Order.It was… a suggestion. A very strong one.And it ended in a great way.Sniper!Hux platonic-ish story because I can't properly write romance. Feel free to suggest tags!
Relationships: Armitage Hux & Reader, Armitage Hux/Reader, Armitage Hux/You
Comments: 7
Kudos: 13





	1. How it all started

**Author's Note:**

> See how fast I'm churning out these fics? Dammit, I just want to procrastinate like crazy!
> 
> Title is temporary, I don't feel really satisfied with it.  
> (This chapter is also temporary, dunno if I'm really happy with it, but we'll see if I'm motivated enough to go back and rewrite it)

It happened back when you were still a rookie lieutenant. You were assistant to General Hux, handpicked fresh out of the Academy. And no, you had no illicit relationship of any kind, despite what the rumour mill said. Your relation to your boss was purely professional, thank you very much.

Your job was simply complicated. Yes. Easy to say. All you had to do was to… well, assist the General. But that included SO. MANY. THINGS. His daily caf and tea? Your job. Sorting his emails? Your job. Making sure he didn't have 24 straight hours of meeting? Also your job. Occasionally taking care of his pet cat Milicent? Yes, your job as well. Taking care of the human ginger? Your job. Ensuring he's still sane enough to carry on another day? Wasn't even on the fine print of your contract, but yes - also your job.

In other words, you were proud to say you were probably the reason the General hadn't collapsed from overwork yet, nor had he gone batshit crazy and slaughtered his subordinates for doing nothing but looking at him wrong. Well, you had wondered how he had been surviving the past years before you came. But that was irrelevant.

It all started with Captain Phasma. She had come into the office in the middle of the day, while you were ordering food for lunch for both you and General Hux in the break room, just a small partition at a corner of the office you two shared. You had blissfully ignored their discussion - you knew they were old friends and they often had small talk, and you respected their privacy - until the General called you into the conversation. You straightened up, quickly finalised your lunch order, and went to approach the two.

As you entered the main part of the office you noticed that General Hux was, as usual, still sitting on his chair at his desk. Captain Phasma was standing on the other side of the desk - helmet off, you noticed, seeing the beautiful blonde hair and blue eyes - reading something off her datapad. You stopped on Phasma's side, standing at attention. The redhead nodded in acknowledgement, then gestured the captain to continue.

"The resistance cell in Dantooine has been eliminated," Captain Phasma started, and you figured she had been repeating the information for your sake. General Hux looked like he was only half-listening. "But further investigations suggest that a certain big politician was involved in funding the resistance." At this point, you were still wondering why you were included in the debrief, to the point that the female captain felt the need to repeat her information. But you said nothing, and instead paid attention on the hologram the captain had pulled up from her datapad.

"Is this Chancellor Jaynor?" You asked, recognising the holographic face. He was pretty much the man with the highest authority in Dantooine. You knew as much. You had come from the lush green planet, after all. 

Oh. Was that why - 

"We had also sent in a few of our best operatives to kidnap, or else eliminate, the good chancellor. However, his security detail was much too efficient and there were nearly no opportunities to do so. All twenty of our operatives have failed." Captain Phasma continued. You nodded. Jaynor was the supreme chancellor and a great politician. It was unfortunate that he was allied to the Republic. What's more unfortunate was the fact that the Republic knew of this too, and they made sure he was well protected.

"I am aware that I have been included in this debrief because I'm from Dantooine, but I'm not sure how I can assist in the operation." You admitted, even more confused that you had been already. At first you thought you would probably go to Dantooine, possibly with your boss, and negotiate with the chancellor or something. Your knowledge with the local culture and governmental structure might help. However, seeing as it had been a full-blown assassination mission, you weren't sure how you would be helpful. Your physical skills weren't exactly the greatest. You were fit, yes, but you were just a little below average in terms of pretty much every physical activity. You had survived the Academy purely because your deskwork had been more than impressive, and you had always been good with strategies.

General Hux stood up, circling the desk and stood between you and Captain Phasma. His face was as impassive as usual, though you couldn't help but notice the glint on his eyes. "And have you dispatched Corporal Picks?" He inquired, sounding grave, but you notice how twitchy his fingers were. Was he anxious about something? You shifted your eyes to Phasma, who looked rather annoyed. Perhaps she was offended that the General had implicitly said she hadn't thought about the idea yet.

"I have, sir, but even he failed. He hit one of the bodyguards instead. No traces back to us though. The security has tightened since then. There's only one last possibility." She said, locking eyes with the man. There must have been something you didn't know, as no words were exchanged between them. The General nodded. "Make preparations," he ordered, "We will leave as soon as possible." Captain Phasma acknowledged, and left the room. You, meanwhile, were left confused. What was the last possibility? Why would General Hux leave? Were you going with him?

The redhead circled the room, as he usually did when he was agitated. This wasn't an agitated pacing, though. You noticed that he was… uncharacteristically excited? He stopped at one of the cupboards at the corner of the room. You recognised that cupboard as one where one Armitage Hux kept his personal belongings - as opposed to work-related books and documents in the other cupboards - but you had never opened it or seen what was inside. You watched as he opened the cupboard and fished out a long briefcase. Everything suddenly made sense.

The briefcase was laid on the desk and with one of his access cylinders, General Hux unlocked and opened it. With deft hands the man pulled out every single part of a sniper rifle and started assembling it. Of course. You remembered seeing his name on the topmost leaderboard for long distance sniping… among many other things. You knew what the chrome-plated stormtrooper had in mind now. She had been asking Hux to assassinate the chancellor, although implicitly; One does not simply order the General of the First Order, after all. But you were surprised to see how keen he was for this mission. You watched him closely as he studied the rifle from end to end, huffed in satisfaction (yes, you knew this as you saw him smile rather fondly), then disassembled the rifle and stored it back into the briefcase.

You watched him yet again as he sat down, unsure of what you should be doing. You were still standing at the same spot you had been in earlier, shifting your weight from one foot to another. After sitting gracefully on his chair, he slumped forwards, interlocking his fingers, resting his elbow on the desk. Green eyes staring at you. "Lieutenant." He addressed you. You shifted your body to be straight in front of him, waiting expectantly. "We will leave tomorrow. Reschedule all meetings and planned inspections." You replied an affirmative, then grabbed your datapad from your desk and got to work. 

"How long will we be gone, sir?" you asked, as you were trying to reschedule the first meeting that was going to be early in the morning tomorrow. You didn't want to reschedule it too early or you would have to do so multiple times in case the mission took too long. He hummed thoughtfully, then muttered a date that was about nine days from that day. You repeated the information, confirming it, and got straight back to rescheduling.

The rest of your day was rather uneventful, other than you wondering how you would be useful for the mission. Would you be protection, perhaps? You had known that snipers were vulnerable to close-range sneak attacks. You were well-versed in hand-to-hand and maybe you were quite qualified for the job, but it would've been more efficient if you had stayed here and helped with the General's desk jobs. You didn't question it, though. Well, more like you didn't have time to question it. After lunch there were too many things to deal with and you had found yourself scrambling around to deal with an urgent - though not too important - matter regarding rumors of a dissatisfied stormtrooper.

As your shift was about to end, you stretched and slumped in the comfort of your desk chair. That was one of the perks you got as the assistant of basically the biggest man in the organisation - aside from Supreme Leader Snoke, of course - which was a great thing. Noticing your relaxed demeanour, the redhead called for your attention.

"Your shift is ending soon." He said, noting the obvious. You nodded. You would usually stay quite longer, striving to work alongside your superior and keeping up with HIS shift cycle - though it was near impossible to do so, the man worked nearly eighteen standard hours - and perhaps have dinner with him before continuing work in silence. "Leave once your shift ends. Meet me at 2300 standard hours in room 137B." He ordered. You were quite hurt when he ordered you to leave - was he kicking you out from something? - but having to meet him late night at some random practice room? You mentally rolled your eyes. "May I inquire as to the importance of the meeting tonight, sir?" you dared yourself to ask. He HAD been rather vague about it, and you were curious anyways. 

"We are leaving for a mission of the highest importance. Surely you would want to go through the plans?" Hux sneered. Ugh, this was a small part of him you really hated. Sometimes he would act like people beneath him were not intelligent enough to see what's in his head. While it was true that you did NOT know what was in his head, he seldom revealed the inner workings of his mind anyway. Just like this time, when he didn't brief you much of the mission, simply giving you small hints. But you were patient enough to deal with it.

"Yes, sir. Of course." You replied as you started clearing up your desk, getting ready to leave. "See you at 2300 hours."


	2. Room 137B

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder if the FBI would start tracking me for all the sniper-related research I attempted to do.

After dinner and a short nap, you found yourself wandering in the corridors of the Finalizer, finding your way towards 137B. You had been dressed much more casually, with a white shirt and training pants. You had actually taken the time to ponder if you should've been in your regulation uniform, but decided that no, you should be fine.

With a ship as big as the Finalizer, there was no way you would've known every single room and its designation. You only knew that rooms with the B suffix were something along the lines of a training room. There were many kinds: ones that were just straight-up gyms, ones with practice dummies, and ones for target practice. Room 137B was precisely that. You had gone there 10 minutes early, seeing a room with lanes of shooting targets, and a wall full of different kinds of firearms. Figuring you had some time, you picked up a standard-issue blaster, the same model as your current personal sidearm, and activated one of the lanes so it would track your shots and its accuracy.

Your accuracy had not been the greatest. Your personal best was 80, and it was back at the academy after a bunch of retries under the watchful eye of your instructor. You hit a 73, which was better than you expected. Your accuracy had been about 71 lately. It would be something you would've worked on, but you had been so busy with your job you didn't really have time for 'recreation', even though target practice might not be a suitable kind of recreation. Besides, you very much preferred playing holochess.

"That was abysmal." You flinched in surprise. Turning your head to the left, towards the door, you noticed General Hux standing, watching you. Immediately you felt deflated. You had been happy getting a 73, and while you knew it wasn't great by any means (80 was the standard in the First Order), hearing your superior undermine it so badly made you feel like bantha fodder.

The redhead was still in his uniform, though he had not been wearing his command cap and coat. On one hand was the long briefcase you had seen earlier that day in your offices. On the other hand was a datapad. You greeted your superior with a salute, holding your blaster on your left hand. You weren't sure whether to respond to his offhand comment earlier, however.

Hux walked to the panels and reactivated the shooting lane you had been using earlier. "Shoot." He ordered you. You were half-sure that if you hadn't been doing target practice when he had come in, he wouldn't have been so intense with monitoring your shooting form. It was like he was trying to check if your poor shooting form was the reason for your bad accuracy. But you knew it wasn't that, because you had your form corrected so many times back in the Academy it was pretty much perfect. You were just that bad with the blaster. In any case, you took aim and started shooting at the targets again, shooting a few right in the middle, but mostly they were just nicks on the top left. It was always on the top left. You were rather concerned about it. Your accuracy turned out to be 68, even worse than earlier. You lowered the blaster and turned your head to look at the redhead. Honestly, his face could not get any more disappointed… was what you were expecting. But no, he actually looked thoughtful instead of disappointed.

"Not bad. Your precision is good. Your accuracy just… needs help. Here, try adjusting it this way." He put the briefcase and datapad on the table, then approached you. Gripping your arms with more gentleness than you could expect from the man, he shifted your arms slightly to the right and down. "Your aim is a little high and to the left. Try aiming lower than you usually do." he instructed as he tapped the panel again, activating the targets again. You followed his advice and did not aim for the center. Instead, you aimed somewhere at the bottom right. You found yourself hitting bullseyes consistently, much to your surprise.

"81. Better." The General commented. You were surprised. All he did was slightly adjust your arms and instructed you to take a different aim. And you immediately broke your personal best. Snap. Just like that. "The standard shooting form taught to you is not always compatible with everyone. You should always be ready to make adjustments when you need to." He said. You murmured a "Yes sir. Thank you, sir." Ah, that should've made sense. Everyone had different quirks and bodies, there was no way to have one clear-cut form to shoot blasters.

"Captain Phasma has provided us with intel regardig Chancellor Jaynor's daily routine. I have sent a copy to your datapad. Study and memorise it before we arrive at Dantooine." Hux ordered, and you acknowledged. "I have marked several possible points to set up for a snipe. I require your inputs to this." again, you acknowledged. "Have you been a spotter before?" You nodded hesitantly.

"I have been once, during a team survival training." You explained. You weren't sure if that counted as being a spotter. But the redhead nodded nonetheless. "Then you will be my spotter. Do you remember how to use the scope?" He asked, and you nodded. He once again opened the briefcase and this time he pulled out a spotter's scope, then lightly threw it at you. You caught it neatly, surprised by how heavy it was. The scope that you had used previously was much lighter and smaller than this one. It was weird.

You peeked through the scope and you could see the familiar crosshairs. The general ordered you to turn the scope on, which you did by pressing a button on the side. After a few seconds of start up, you noticed a few different numbers on the lens. You recognised them as specifications such as wind velocity, distance of target, as well as current temperature and humidity. That was interesting. Back in your team survival training you had had to use a plethora of equipments to measure the parameters. Perhaps, you realised, that was why this scope was heavier and bigger than the one you used; it was digitally equipped with pretty much everything you need.

Another rigorous tapping on the panel and the room changed. Gone were the lanes and wall of weapons. What greeted you was a dark room with two seats. Approaching the seats, you realised there was a VR set prepared. Ah, so you were going to do some simulations. You had done several VR simulations where you were in a battlefield or simulations where you learnt to pilot an AT-AT, but this was the first time you had used the tech to simulate a sniping situation. You sat in a seat and put on the VR set, and activated the simulation.

You found yourself inside an old abandoned building. The room was larger than 137B, but it was alright. Your consciousness was basically transferred into the virtual world, using a technology popularly known as Full Dive. Essentially everything happening in this world was simulated, all in your head. In front of you you could see General Hux materialised. With him was his briefcase (Did he somehow program that into the simulation?) which he opened. He once again assembled the rifle, and gave you your scope. You accepted it and fixed it on top of a tripod which he also gave you, then turned it on.

"I have activated simulation for Jaynor's activity at 1600 hours. He is planned to have a speech at the plaza." Hux explained, gesturing towards the window where you can spot an open space with a podium. You guessed that the speech thing hadn't started yet. "Your task is to provide me with the current conditions of the environment. Your scope is adjustable here," he moved towards you and shifted the lens, showing you how to do so. "So you can shift to watch the surroundings. It is your job to inform me if there could be possible disruptions to my task. It should be simple enough for you. We will run several simulations tonight." he told you. Without waiting for an answer, he began laying on his stomach, steadily readying himself and taking aim. You did the same, except… you were being less impressive without the heavy weaponry.

After muttering a few parameters, you focused your scope to the plaza, looking around for a vehicle to arrive - waiting for the chancellor to arrive.

Guess it was time to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was trying to keep the chapter in 1k+ length. Should I have made it longer? My first idea was to have this chapter be much longer without cutting off where I did, but I didn't like to write extra long chapters. Whoops.


End file.
